St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-11-03

noise, and he, starting to his feet, met
the messenger half way with the
anxious query, "We1?" But all he
heard ere ne sank back in his chair ex-
hausted, were the words, feebly spoken:
Petition Denied.
''Thank God," said the veteran. for
to him it meant much. As to the cap
tain of the police it meant much. As to
the widows and orphans of the slaught-
cred officers it meant much. But then
the official paused and the man coming
to himself said: This must be told"
| Slowly he wrote message to Spies
briefly announcing the news, and then
entered the corridor in which are the
cells in which the condemned sit and
write and sneerl and argue. Always
self important, never particularly in
teresting, full of mighty plans to be pro-
jected in space without the customary
aids and abetmentS of brains and capi-
tai or industry, Spies sat alone. The
approach of his jailer interrupted his
mighty thought and with frown upon
his pallid face-for he has grown thin
jawed by his long confinement
asked querulOusly ''Well?" Not obse-
quiously, but
With Manly Sympathy
the jailer passed between the bars the
crumpled paper in which was written
what would seem to condemned man
an all important communication. Spies
took it quickly, read it hurriedly and
then simply lifting his eyes for mo-
ment as he folded the paper and laid it
Oh stool beside him remarked, II
have nothing to say" and, resuming his
work. indicated his desire to be left
alone. The jailer's starting was called
to halt by Spies, who said: "YOu
might tell the others if you please"
The news was received by the others
clldrdcUerlSJlcdlly.
The American public has been fed
ad nauSeam with sensational stuff about
these men. They have been pictured
as lofty browed, keen-eyed men, of
gentle mould. They have been sent
forth On silvery phrases as gentlemen
of leisure, who have kindly come from
foreign shores to teach the hardy sons
of the Western wilds to live and move
and enjoy their being. If one might
believe the current literature of the
times, they are
Above the Ordinary Level
of intelligence, men devoted to the
furtherance of an idea, men whose SYM
pathies encircled the globe, and whose
humanitarianism is wide-hOriZoned. AS
matter of fact they are very common
place people. They are not men, with
one exception, who have earned their
bread by the sweat of their brows.
They are known throughout the length
and breadth of this magnificent state,
and especially in the upheaved streets
of this imperial city, as professional
agitators, as professional workingmen
who professed much more than they
ed-glib-tongued, as all their set
are. narrOw-minded, bitter, prejudiced,
full of petty intrigue, which finally
eliminated in this internal illustra-
ton of the possibilities of socialism,
when pushed to the last degree of an
archy. 1t must be said in reference to
Parsons, who is
The One American
among them, and Spies, that while they
were professed wOrkingmen, they did
some intellectual labor in the conduct of
labor papers, but they never attained the
plane of dignity or of pure intellectual
ity in which Schwab stood and stands
by reason of his nervous organization
and the nicely of his brainy apprecia-
ton of situations. They were not in
any true sense of the term intellectual
leaders. They never could be. Schwab
might be an intellectual leader in the
realm of alleged prophecy, in the realm
of Utopia.
1t would interest, am sure, the peo-
pie of the world if they could scalp the
citizenship of this great state and note
the absolute feeling with which these
men are regarded. You see it is some
time since the crime. 1t is nearly two
years. A long time, in which, as Rip |
Van Wrinkle would remark, being gone.
We Are Easily Forgotten.
The names of the policemen who were
killed, the names of the men, women |
and children who were manned and in |
jured, are forgotten and have been |
swept away by the stream of time and |
covered by the multitudinosities of hap |
pening and of incident since then. All |
that remains is this spectacle of seven |
men facing the inevitable gallOws. Is |
there any regret? Oh, indeed, much; |
but not in their breasts. There is yet |
to be formulated a sentence of sorrow |
for the deed so far as they are con-
cerned. There is yet to be printed one |
solitary phrase indicating regret that
the murder occurred when and as it |
did The people of the state, people of |
the city, the associates of the police, the |
families of the MANNED and wounded
yes, in their breasts is much regret, but
the men who caused the trouble have, |
as say, yet to phrase the first sentence
indicating sorrow, much less repent
ance.
What, then is the feeling? The feel